


Allégro

by Shiice



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Falling In Love, Harassment, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Worth Issues, Slice of Life, Strangers to Lovers, rating for future chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2018-09-15 11:12:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9232337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiice/pseuds/Shiice
Summary: Yuri, disillusioned with his current life as a ballet dancer, learns to see the art of the style with the help of Otabek.Or: A summer story in which Yuri and Otabek get to know each other while in a ballet studio.[being rewritten.]





	

**Author's Note:**

> when you had a hiatus but its like w/e. it's just kind of fun to get back into actually writing things again! especially for the yoi fandom, when I'm sure /right now/ is when the fandom is at peak interest. so, I guess to the 12 of us that are still left, yay? whatever, enjoy ~
> 
> Warning: Homophobia/internal homophobia, harassment, that's mostly it. Also... just to be a disclaimer? Yuri is 17, and Otabek is 18. (There will be tags added if anything else besides these are in, but for the most part, that'll probably be it.)
> 
> [also, this is being rewritten. pretty majorly. so maybe it doesn't suck as much as before who knows. but yeah, I was originally gonna just write another chapter, but I came to the realization that this sucked ass and so now here we are more than a year later.]

i. **rose petals**  
  
He doesn't even think that he _likes_  dancing that much.  
  
Watching dances, - he _does_ like doing. Yuri can spend so much of his time seeing old ballet performances to the point of memorization; entranced by the movements, the music and the costumes that went into the style of dance.   
  
Actually _doing_ it, however, is different. So much of the dance is strict, ridged, and just plain authoritative. And truth be told, Yuri can’t stand being told what to do.  
  
“Toes pointed, backs straight. Stop slacking around and focus!” The professor shouts from across the room.  
  
It’s been _so many years_ of continuously hearing the many common criticisms that’s daily told _\- or rather, yelled -_ during his ballet rehearsals. So much so, that nowadays he feels like she’s finally gone off on an _infinite loop_ of corrections day-in and day-out.   
  
_Honestly, she probably_ _is_ , he tells himself.   
  
Because, it’s _obviously not_ like she’s been saying the same things so many times, that it makes Yuri feel like he’s going slightly insane for imagining the entire world on repeat. _No, nothing like that._  
  
“Keep to the timing." Beat.  " _A few_ of you are pushing the timing. _Dimitri._ ”  
  
_Shut. Up._  
  
Rhythmically, he’s dancing exactly to the rhythm of the lighthearted keynotes of the piano music CD that’s playing in the background of the studio. Actually, _save that._ Not so much _dancing_ as he’s just moving around completely on autopilot, not even cognitively aware of the dance besides the fact that he’s extremely bored doing the pre-established barre exercises to the almost white-noise sound of the piano.  
  
And while the exercises aren’t hard per se, each one of them can be frustratingly tedious in their own individual fashions, especially more so to the untrained dancer. That might have gotten to him in the past (like most other things at the time did, and still continue to do), but he’s been able to grow rather accustomed to them starting a long time ago. Because unlike it is _for_ the untrained dancer, the muscle memory of it all is etched into his brain. That might be part of the reason why everything during these “practice sessions” can be almost trance-like in their mind-numbing dullness.  
  
A trance, or rather, - if he’s feeling really imaginative that day, he’ll only be aware "just enough" to take notice of himself drifting off into his own passing thoughts - even though for the most part, his thoughts fade into obscurity until they can barely take the recognizing form of coherency. Which, for the moment, really isn’t that interesting, considering that the best form of entertainment he could imagine for himself is _inspecting the cleanliness of the floors,_ of all fucking things. Because lord - it isn’t as if he’s some type of neat-freak by any means, _but it would be nice if it didn’t look like the floors were 30 years older than they actually were._  
  
...  
  
While on auto-pilot, his hand reaches farther to the side, allowing the hand grasping on the barre to regrip because of his old grip steadily losing its composure the longer that they’re told to go through the exercises, and because of how long he’s had his hand in the same place, gradually growing more sweaty with each minute that goes by. After all, despite the movements not being too difficult for Yuri to do now - doing them for extended lengths of time can still drive his muscles tired.  
  
Truthfully, the only reason why he isn’t just walking out of the room to do _whatever_  - is because the practice’s already gone on for _so long_ \- which is terrible in its own part, but it also means that it’s close to finishing as well.  
  
“Yuri, look more attentive! Your movements are getting sloppier by the minute.”  
  
_Never mind, fuck this. Let me drop out, live in a gutter and eat road pavement for breakfast._  
  
When he does dose off, looking through the window, he notices that the skies seem more blue today, when compared with most other days. Or even - just hours ago. Because at least now, he’s able to see the sun’s light shine through the massive windows on the side of the practice room. Whereas before, during the time when practice usually starts - which is incidentally the very same sky that he has to look forward to wake up to - the skies are dark and uninviting, during those hours, pleading for everyone even awake at the time to spend just a few minutes more inside of their warm beds, leaving all of their responsibilities behind them.  
  
Now, the skies don’t feel as cold. Though, that’s just the warm morning light.  
  
It doesn’t take long for Yuri to be able to feel the pissed-off gaze of Lilia glaring into the back of his head, _again,_ like she’s just watching him to daydream into nothing, and is just _itching_ for the moment in which Yuri screws up his movements again so she has an excuse to say something about it.  
  
_Don’t even think about it, bitch. I won’t give you the satisfaction._ (his resolve seems strong, but he’s so bored already and just wants to wait this out until practice is _over_ and he can just fuck around on the internet.)  
  
Yuri then ends up focusing on how to look attentive on the ballet, (rather than actually being focused on the ballet itself.) A form of daydream, nonetheless, but one that he can’t even hope to enjoy. 

* * *

  
  
After practice, it's customary to go into the locker room, change, shower, freshen up - anything, really. Just so long as it isn’t _nothing_ entirely, because that ends up looking really weird, really quickly. (like, how strange that would fucking look. going to practice day-in and day-out, without ever stopping to clean yourself? freak, wow.)  
  
And Yuri doesn’t mind _that_ part, really. In fact, he rather likes the idea of having the given chance to wind/cool down from his normally high-strung self. But _no,_ it’s rather the fact that he has to do all of this _with other people watching him_ that makes him fucking _die_ , and that’s one thing that Yuri can’t be swayed on.  
  
Because of that - he usually ends up waiting longer than any of the other training dancers to actually shower, -  waiting until most other people are gone from the room completely before he even starts. While the others are changing out of their workout outfits and into their normal, every-day clothes, Yuri pretends to be in the corner of the room just mindlessly brushing his fingers through his ponytail - which is haphazardly created by the lack of patience with his hair.  
  
_Hm, today it’s glossier than usual._  
  
He’ll probably just scrub at his hair harder (than usual) with handfuls of soap when he actually gets the chance to. Which, will probably take _forever_ since no one’s even budging from this room. And he just really wanted to get back to his phone, _come on -_  
  
In a moment of impatience, Yuri just tries to suck it up and do everything differently this time around, gathering the literal courage to look (and step) away from his lone locker so he can start showering and just get all of this over with.  
  
And he almost does it - he grabs his small medley of soaps, miscellaneous cleaning products and change of clothes from his locker, and…  
  
_Just. Fucking. Perfect._  
  
With only one look away from his locker, and he’s faced with the terrible sight of multiple teenage boys stripped down into the nude, and his stomach _fucking flips_ inside out and nearly falls into the floor.  
  
Yeah, fuck that. No way in hell is he dealing with that.  
  
Escaping that lewd display of boyishness, he grabs everything belonging to him and stomps over to one of the showers (the one shower with separate shower curtains, mind you.) Eyes too stubborn to even accidentally glance at... _whatever mess_ those boys taking part in.   
  
_You would think that people would ever have some semblance of decency. Ugh, fuck._  
  
He takes off his ballet workout clothes, leaving them on the floor outside of his shower near his bag -  and turns the knob for hot water, trying to ignore the annoying prickling of his skin that makes his mind swim.   
  
But, a good 20 or so minutes later - Yuri finds himself much more relaxed and fresh-smelling than he was previously, which is more than calming for his highly attentive mind. 

* * *

   
  
It turns out, that Yuri's takes much longer in the shower than he originally anticipated, because he hears Yakov's voice to the far end of the locker room by the door, trying to get his attention.   
  
"What the fuck?" Yuri says, turning down the water a bit, so he can more clearly hear Yakov and vice versa. "What - in the _fuck_ are you doing here?"  
  
"We're waiting on you. We're supposed to be going out today, as a _group._ "  
  
Oh, right. That thing. "Well, maybe if you  _leave -_ "

“We’re going to take a break for the day, and enjoy some lunch near the outskirts of the city,” he interrupts, "- this time, with _all_ of the academy's dancers, so do try to hurry and behave yourself." Clearly, he isn't having any of Yuri's sharp tongue.   
  
But, being with all of the academy's dancers. - _that_ was something new, at least. Yuri never really had the opportunity to bump into the other dancers that weren't in his skill level. This must be some new "immersion" exercise" that Lilia and Yakov are trying to pull off. _Ugh._  
  
“-It was supposed to surprise for the dancers and such, a final thank-you and conclusion to our previous spring recital. But since you’re slowing down the schedule and the bus’s already here, I have to say this; please do try to make haste.”  
  
Nothing is said after, so Yuri assumes that Yakov left.  
  
_He could at least close the door on the way out. Lord._  
  
He dries off, reaching for the pile of clothes on the floor near his bag. Picking out his usual white/black hoodie, bordered with the decorative decals of colorfully vibrant tigers decorating the backside of the garment and the sleeves of the clothing through stitch-work.  
  
Lastly, scanning the room for anything that might have fallen out of his hands around the room; and once he assures himself that everything is in order, he quickly zips up his unholy clutter of a bag and stomps his shoes on with the utmost impatience, stumbling over his own feet as he does so. On the outskirts, too prideful to admit anything other than contempt for what he’s told that he has to do today. 

* * *

  
  
In record time he finds himself half running-half skipping through both the practice building and the larger main building. 

In front of the main building, he spots the run-down bus and slows himself to a stop. There's still a line of the other dancers waiting to stuff themselves into the vehicle, which only drives to annoy Yuri.

_They weren't about to leave, and everybody else is slow as it is._ Now he's gonna have to stay here and waiton all of these other people.

Clicking his teeth, his brows furrow in frustration. After all, Yakov was the one that gave the impression that they were leaving at that exact  _moment._ But nah _, they weren't._

He debates going back into his dorm to drop off his bag instead of carrying it around the entire day, but he strays from the idea. He doesn't know how long this shit will take - if it'll be a while or if this wait will end quickly. So he settles on staying in place - and having bag on his person all throughout the day's activities, (though he knows he'll most likely get annoyed by the feeling of weight on his back later in the day.)

_ Talk about weird, too. Carrying around your dance clothes with you for a good portion of the day. Ugh _

To his luck, the wait doesn't last too long - thank _god,_ or else he would have just lost it - and so, soon he climbs up the old and faded steps to the cramped bus.

It smells of mildew left over from a dirty day in the rain, which has the air irritating Yuri's nose. If he didn't know any better, he'd guess that before this bus was used for public transportation it used to be some old person's home. It's not too much of a stretch either. Without even getting close to the individual seats, he can smell the aroma of _wet dog_ on them. _Isn't that just fucking beautiful._

He looks around for a few seconds, attempting to find an empty cluster of seats, though not to much avail.

Most people are sitting next to others attempting to make small talk, some people are chatting loudly alongside their friends as well. Save for the few loners that are sitting by themselves and staring out of the window.

Yuri wishes he could be one of these people, though there's no other completely empty rows left.

He grits his teeth in frustration, because _goddammit,_ now he's gonna have to sit next to some _nobody_ that he doesn't even know or care to know the name of. Just being in close proximity with one of these people is unpleasant enough.  
  
_Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic. Truly._

Before anyone can give him weird looks for standing in the aisle of the bus for so long without moving one way or another, he decides to go to the closest empty seat to where he is - which is a little of a ways down the bus. Makes sense, considering how late he was coming here compared to all of the other dancers.

He pushes through the legs of various people, having them sprawled out and covering the floor of the aisle because they weren't expecting someone else to come through: several "excuse me"s' were uttered as the annoyed blonde pushes his way through the people, until he reaches the seat he's been eyeing.

He falls into the cushioned chair with a slump, not caring what the people around him notice. It's not exactly "practice time," so he could care less about how graceful he looks. Though now, the backpack's uncomfortable position on his back is more than apparent when he leans backwards.

He reaches his hand to his side for a seatbelt - but wait, no, _this is a bus, so there are no seat belts._

_Right,_ he should have remembered that. 

Before he slumps back into his seat he takes off his backpack, resting it on his lap (instead of laying it on the floor.)

Now settled, he looks out towards the window. Upsettingly not able to get a good enough view since the person next to him occupies the window seat. To himself, he wishes he brought his phone and earphones with him. They make him seem busy and not able to talk, which is exactly what he wants to read as.

Hopefully, the person next to him isn't too talkative and tries to make awkward conversation with him, because _Jesus god_ does the blonde know that he can't stand stupid and borderline-mandatory small talk. 

Yuri attempts to look busy. Looking toward the ground and playing with his feet barely touching the floor, feigning interest and something meaningless.  
  
...

Guess he didn't look busy enough.

The guy next to him faces Yuri, while he (of course) tries to pretend he doesn't _feel_  the other's eyes looking _straight_ at him.  
  
He can, though. He's now hyper aware of the others' gaze. 

_Look away, look away, look away, fuck off alright-_

"Ey."

Yuri pretends not to hear him.

_Take the hint, alright? Fuck off._

However, he tries again. Much to Yuri's displeasure. Not to mention that the guy takes his hand resting at his side and lightly taps Yuri's shoulder.

Fuck, now he has to look up.

"Hey, Yuri's your name, right?" he asks as he's touching the blonde.

_What the hell, get off of me._

Yuri inches away. "Could be." _Lord_ help Yuri if that isn't dismissive enough for this fucker.   

"I'll take that as a yes. You probably know my name! It's Georgi."

_Why is this happening._

Yuri looks away almost immediately, trying to not further draw out this unwanted chatter. He debates just flat-out leaving and walking to a different open seat - the only reason he doesn't is because this _was_ the last open seat. Probably for good reason, too.   
  
But  _god-fucking dammit_ , the freak continues talking to him. "I'm in your class, you know. You're pretty good by the way."

The blonde understands that he means it as a compliment, but seeing the person that it's coming from, it honestly seems more like an insult.

He doesn't answer, _again,_ perfectly silent as his eyes are locked on an object on the ground below himself to avoid his eye contact.Maybe that'll help to die down the talking.

Though, the guy's more stupid than he thought, because he still doesn't seem to get the message in the slightest.

"Hey, so you know-" he tries to start.

"Okay, I get that you're trying to talk to me, but can you just be quiet?" Yuri snaps back at him. "I'm trying to sleep, alright? So just, shut up." The wanting-to-sleep is a lie, of course - but he just needs this person to stop talking. Too many of his nerves are being pushed today.

"Heh, alright, geez-" the other coughs out. "I was just trying to be friendly."

...

Still knowing that he has to fill up most of the time of being on the bus without that guy _bothering him again_ , he pretends to try to fall asleep. Allowing his head to fall forward and the soft hair of his bangs to cover his eyes and shield his face. Covering the face akin to white porcelain behind a blanket of silky blonde strands.

He keeps up the façade of sleep for the rest of the trip, not letting go of his consciousness for a second thanks to how uncomfortable he is _still_ by the other guy next to him.

* * *

  
  
"Okay everyone, we've arrived to the city we'll be staying at for lunch." Yakov announces, once they finally arrive. "Though before you're allowed to roam freely, there are a few rules that you'll have to follow." His partner, Lilia, stands next to him and continues for him, almost like they've rehearsed this.

Lilia talks with a stern voice. "You'll be back by 17:00. You will not roam farther than the river on the side of the city. If you have money of your own, use it. If not, come to us and you'll get exactly 300₽. You will travel in groups of 2 or more-"

Yuri huffs, _like that's gonna happen._

"-and if these rules are broken, all of you will pay for a single person's actions." She says as she finishes.

Directly after she's finished talking, the doors to the bus are opened, allowing a whole slurry of people out in a single mess before dispersing.  Yuri's about to join the rest of them in hopping out of the vehicle but distracted when he feels another tap on his shoulder.

_I swear, if it's the same guy-_

It is.  
  
"So," Georgi starts. "Do you wanna be partners? It doesn't look like you have anybody else."  
  
Yuri nods, hiding a scowl. He's definitely not gonna stick with this freak - _maybe_ he'll find a way to shake him off in the busyness of the city, because he'll be _dammed_ if he'll have to spend any more of this time with this guy's company.  
  
_(In fact, maybe he'll just be one of the first ones back to the bus so he'll be able to pick a seat with no partner so he'll finally just get away from everyone. Just an idea.)_  
  
When he steps off the bus, he lets himself take in the city around him. He thinks that it's a good thing that _this_ is where Yakov and Lilya had decided to spend the afternoon at, quite a bit of the area is filled with all sorts of shops. Mostly restaurants and cafes, save for a few souvenir shops mixed into the bunch. Apparently at some level, this place is a bit of a tourist attraction. He didn't know Russia had many of those, though he's pleased to see that there are a few.   
  
Ignoring the people around him, he walks where his mind takes him. _Gosh, that fountain looks amazing - it really is a shame that he didn't bring his phone along for this little trip._  (because at the very least, he could have shared these dreamlike moments with the rest of the world through social media.) He marvels at how a stone trail just appears to be intrinsically cheerful with the greenery and flora that surrounds it. The air surrounding feels to him like a clear mist - which he guesses is because there's a river near this place. Regardless, the the light scent of water evokes a calming effect which Yuri hadn't even thought possible.   
  
He feels tugging on one of his sleeves. _Well, calming effect over_.   
  
"What?" he asks, looking towards the source of annoyance.   
  
It's Georgi again  _of fucking course it is._  
  
_As soon as I find a way to get rid of this guy, I'm finding a way to hang myself.  
_  
However contrary to his fucking actions, he's not looking towards Yuri, and instead he's eyeballing some sort of confectionary shop just on the other side of the trail his mind was previously lost in.  
  
"What, do you wanna go there?" Yuri asks. _Please say yes, please._    
  
The guy nods. _There's_ Yuri's opening.  
  
"Then go," he says sternly, doing his best to allow no room for debate. "I'm gonna look around for something else but  _I'm not going in there, alright?_ If you wanna go, go."  
  
"But you know that Lilia said-"  
  
"-to stay together to not get lost?" the blonde interrupts. "We're not children. This isn't some faraway place where maps and a sense of direction don't exist. Alright? So just  _go_ ,  _and leave me already_." He ends with a glare, trying to make his message more than clear.   
  
Without another word, the guy goes the direction of his desired shop, much to Yuri's pleasure.   
  
Fucking thankfully this guy gets it now.  
  
Yuri walks in the opposite direction. Not towards any place in particular, only  _away_.   
  
...  
  
Only later does he see the appeal in looking towards one of the shops that he's passed by previously. He might as well buy something. After all, he has _some_ money left from when he was last with his Grandfather (which, he decides, is too long ago) - so he might as well, perhaps? It's not like these little trips happen every day,  _\- or month, - or ever_. He looks towards the ground, watching his shoes tap against the stones at his feet as he walks, listening to the satisfying 'clack' sound that it makes every time he roughly lands his feet heel-first.  
  
Yuri spends time kicking the earthy stones beneath his feet. Checking his watch. 14:04.  
  
_Nope, still far too early to go back to the bus._  
  
He continues entertaining the idea from before, about _actually walking into one of the shops_ , - which still at this point, he's still not able to work up the nerve to do so (despite most of what he's known for  _is_  his nerve.) Checking his watch again, 14:07.  
  
Before he actually does, he ends up catching the eye of an older man walking out of one of the buildings.   
  
Normally, he doesn't feel hypersensitive about someone right away - but with this person, it ends up being warranted.  
  
"Now, aren't _you_ a pretty thing."  
  
Yuri can just feel the man's grin, and his eyes studying Yuri from head to toe. It just looks foul, and every fibre in Yuri's body is screaming at Yuri to get away from where he is _right now_ , it doesn't matter where, _just move.  
  
_ He ends up turning into the closest building to him (besides the one that the strange man _just_ walked out of.) (Which in hindsight, was a really good decision for him to make, because he's pretty sure that he won't be followed here. There's other people, fucking bless.) It ends up being a coffee house, which he's not-at-all against. 

...  
  
He pushes his way through a dark, mahogany wood door. With that, his ears being able to pick out a small chime of a welcoming bell as he steps through and inside the sweet, unassuming cafe.  
  
Immediately after he steps through, his eyes notice the great change in the provided light, (mostly because the lights to the small shop are dimly lit compared to the darkening, summer sun that he was only just exposed to.) Because of that, it takes a few moments for his eyes to get used to adjusting to the darker setting.  
  
Attempting to fool himself into thinking that the light change wasn't affecting his sense of perception, he walks towards the front counter to the back-end of the shop, eyeing the menu posted on the wall above.  
  
Around the shop, there's only one person waiting in line, and there's only a handful of people at the cafe's provided tables and chairs, (mostly on their phones, or on their expensive-looking laptops) while trying to finish off their purchased drinks.   
  
He decides to just stay here, and _maybe_ he'll buy something. He's not sure yet - but, it probably would make sense that he would have to buy something to stay in this cafe. (Because thanks to him being a little spooked earlier, he thinks that he'd much rather spend the rest of his time with other people around, so whatever _that_ was doesn't happen again.)  
  
Not to mention, that the cafe _is_  quite cozy, with the place small as it is.  
  
The lights which had previously bothered him now seem like they’re in their rightful place, now that Yuri can see them all more clearly without growing blind from their nasty glares. The hue they give off not quite brightly yellow enough to make this coffee shop seem artificial, but just enough to allow the customers already inside feel welcomed to stay and do their own various individual paper (or) computer work.  
  
He hears the start of the coffee machine, the smell of fresh coffee grounds filling the air of the building that had previously only carried the scent of warm muffins and fruity scones.  
  
With his mind made up, Yuri gets in line behind the other person - a taller brunette.   
  
The background noise of the customer before him making his order is one of the only things keeping Yuri grounded at all in the moment. (it's _calming,_ what can he say?) But he only really starts to _register_ the sound of the other customer once he says his name to the employee, because _that_ strikes him strangely.   
  
"Otabek?" he asks the other man. "That doesn't exactly sound like a Russian name, does it?"  
  
_Otabek_  looks backwards towards Yuri, and nods a bit, though looking hesitant to say anything to him.   
  
Yuri looks backwards, towards the window of the cafe. His anxiety _jumps_ at the sight of the man still outside of the building, (facing away from the door, as to not draw suspicion from other people.)  
  
Seeing the man from before  _still_ there starts to draw a panic out of Yuri, a hot flush roars in his ears, and his mind becomes one track: _find somebody in here that's safe_ ; even though he's convinced himself before that he's safe as long as he's still in the sight of other people.   
  
"So, where's the name originally from then?" Yuri asks. _Just talk, just talk back to me._  
  
He just needs to look like he's here with another person, maybe he'll be finally left alone then.  
  
"It's... - I think it's actually an Uzbek name, or something," he says. But now, Yuri can actually hear an accent through the guy's Russian pronunciation.   
  
"Wait, you're not even Russian, are you," he says. "Where're you from, anyways?"  
  
"Kazakhstan." He says, this time without missing a beat.   
  
Right as Yuri's about to ask him something else just to draw out the conversation, the cafe's employee finishes up with Otabek's order, - handing him his coffee, and turning to Yuri who's now finding himself at the front of the line.  
  
His nerves jump again. He _can't_ look like he's alone. Yuri chances a glance back toward the door, and he's still here. He's not going to leave.   
  
"Uhm," he says to Otabek before he leaves -   _absolutely_  running on pure anxiety at this point.  
  
He feels so off right now for doing this, but his mind has convinced him that there's no other alternative.  
  
"Wait - Otabek, please don't go." Yuri's voice drops a little softer, so only he can hear Yuri. "There's someone outside, and I really don't know what to do alone... Just, _please help me._ "  
  
Otabek's features soften in understanding of the situation. "Sure, I'll stick around. I'm sorry, I didn't realize something was going on."  
  
He fills with relief. "Just, Lord, _thank you._ "   
  
And Otabek doesn't move, he stays there by Yuri's side. _Praise._    
  
“Welcome, are you ready to order?” the employee asks (clearly distant from everything that's happening) and Yuri shakes his head, eyes looking to the menu above. While he's calmer now, he's still giddy with the wave of anxiety he had mere seconds ago.  
  
Yuri takes a breath, not realizing that the pace was a little too fast. “I guess I’ll just have a black coffee. Small.”  
  
“That’ll be 250₽.” Though Yuri already knows this, as it says the prices of the different drinks on the wooden board above the counter. Nevertheless, he still nods and peels the backpack off from his shoulders and reaches into one of the outside pockets for the paper bills needed, placing them on the counter. Only sparing the employee a glance as he picks out a paper cup from the shop’s supplies to make his drink.  
  
The employee takes out a pen. “And, your name?” he asks.  
  
“It’s ‘Yuri’”, he breathes - and with graceful pen strokes, the employee haphazardly draws a scribbled “Юрий” around the cup.  “It’ll be ready in a few minutes,” he assures.  
  
With the employee gone, he turns back to Otabek; who's still next to him. 

"Um," he starts. "I don't know if you're able to; but could you just stay here with me, after my coffee's done?" He looks outside again, and thanks to who he still sees out there, his words get a little more shaky. "I just... by myself -- I don't know..." The fact that _he's_ still out there is starting to really affect Yuri's mental state.   
  
"Of course, of course. You want a table here, yes?" Otabek asks, trying to sooth as he's witness to the progression of Yuri's panic.   
  
Yuri nods. "Yes, yes - if you could? _Thank you._ "  
  
Normally, it probably wouldn't be the best idea to just take a table anywhere with an unknown person - but as the both of them find a table to enjoy their drinks; Yuri enjoys feeling, _\- almost protected,_ \- rather than hovered over, by this person. It feels _nice_ , for once.   
  
"Thanks," the blonde says as he takes a seat. "- Wait, fuck," he stops. "- I just realized that you probably don't know my name, right? It's Yuri, just so you know."  
  
Otabek seems to realize that Yuri's getting flustered over not immediately telling the Kazakh his name. "No, don't worry about it," he assures. "I... kind of already knew."  
  
_Right, probably from me telling the employee. Fuck._  "Not from you saying it a few minutes ago, however," Otabek says, practically on cue. "I guess you could say - that I knew before that?"  
  
_Wait,_ _"what?"_ Yuri asks, suddenly feeling a hell of a lot more self-conscious. He can honest-to-god _feel_ his heart beating now.  
  
(this day is a little much)  
  
"I don't mean anything strange by that," he says quickly, sensing Yuri's spike in nervousness. "It's just - I'm pretty sure we go to the same ballet training school, is all."  
  
_That_ was it?  
  
The nerves in Yuri transform into a warm giddiness. "Really? _You_ go to Yakov and Lilia's Academy? That's _precious._ " The blonde laughs a bit, covering his mouth with his hand, then stopping after a few moments. "If so, then I wonder why I haven't seen you around before?"  
  
"I'm... pretty sure that I'm a few levels below you. There's not a lot of crossover between the upper and lower levels, you know."  
  
_True._ And it's not like Yuri spends much time at all outside of his dorm during their "free time," - no _wonder_ he'd never seen this person around before. 

"So then, how do you know me? Specifically?" Yuri asks, - because Yuri's sure that there's quite a few people in the academy that notice him because of his skill in dance (or if not, he's pretty sure that he's known for his temper and snappishness at most people.)  
  
"Oh, you know," Otabek replies, "In some of my classes, Lilia mentions you a lot, most of the time comparing your talent to ours and such. You're something of a little prodigy, according to her."  
  
_Of course._ "Wait, what was that _little_ remark?" He asks in mock anger (because really, he's starting to have fun with this) - and ignores the subtle wave of embarrassment that washes through him because of Otabek's deadpan remark about his height (or lack thereof) - _not_ doing wonders for his self-esteem, _thank you very much._  
  
"Right, your testiness is infamous." Otabek chuckles warmly. "I didn't mean anything by that, you can relax."  
  
As if Yuri didn't have enough reason to feel sheepish in this person's presence.   
  
"Uh... alright, yeah. I will." _That backfired quickly._ He flushes. "But still," he continues. " _You_ do ballet? I swear, you don't look like it at all!"  
  
"Look like... what, exactly?" There's a cautious tone that catches Yuri off guard. He ignores it, anyhow.   
  
Yuri hums. "Feminine? Girly? I don't know - just _look_ at me, I should be a good enough reference." He closes his eyes and laughs a bit, albeit a _little_ forced. How could it not be forced? He's literally in _this situation now_ \- with some person _still_ staking out the front of the cafe _because_ of the way Yuri looks.  
  
" - And," he says, "I'm just stopping you before you have the chance to think it.  _I'm not a girl._  Despite the fact that I look like a _total fairy_ , and my choice in hair-cut isn't exactly helping me... _not look girly._ " He finishes weakly.  
  
He probably would have finished strongly, if it weren't for the look Otabek gives him. Is it pity? It looks like pity. It makes Yuri feel... _smaller._    
  
"Oh hey, no, - I wasn't thinking that," Otabek says in an immediately calm voice, - and Yuri wonders if it's his imagination that he's hearing Otabek sound a lot more deliberately gentle.  
  
But this isn't meant to be some part of a self-pity-party.  
  
'Well, regardless of what you thought - or didn't think, it's just - I wouldn't expect someone like _you_ would be in dancing, _alright?_ That's a compliment, _take it._ " He's tired of second-guessing himself, now. _Just take the fucking compliment and let me live my life. Please.  
  
_ Otabek chuckles to himself. "You're very persistent with compliments, I'll give you that. I'd of thought you'd been more keen on insults, thanks to your reputation."  
  
"I try to think of myself as a fair judge of character, and you actually seem like a decent person, for once." _  
  
_ "A _decent_ person? Oh, come now, now you're making me blush." Otabek says with a joking grin on his face.   
  
That smile by itself could probably take away all of Yuri's worries.  
  
...  
  
After a little while longer, Yuri look back again at the door's window, trying to still spot the man; although now he's gone.   
  
Though, despite the man being "gone" he doesn't feel completely safe just going around alone, so he sticks with Otabek - who's lenient enough to keep Yuri nearby.   
  
They both stay at the cafe a little while longer, until they both decide that it would probably be a good idea to start going, lest they be the few stragglers near the end of the line getting on the bus. (Or, lest Yuri have to sit next to _\- god forbid - Georgi -_ all the way home again. That's where he draws the line.)  
  
"I can't believe how long we were actually here for." Otabek says, taking his (now empty) coffee cup, and looks towards Yuri. "Are you done with yours? D'you want me to throw away your trash too?"  
  
He looks down as his barely touched cup, the liquid nearly to the brim; save for a few absent-minded sips he took while he wasn't paying attention.   
  
"Um... you could empty and toss this? I'm pretty sure I won't drink this anymore; I can't stand cold coffee."  
  
Otabek stands up, grabbing his cup. "What about iced coffee?" He asks jokingly.   
  
" _Especially_  iced coffee." Yuri giggles. "Fuck _that."_  
  
"I see you're very opinionated." _  
  
_ "Yeah, because I'm _right."_

"That's fair, that's fair," Otabek lulls.   
  
When the both of them are done at the cafe, they both try finding the bus together - as it's starting to get cold out, and Yuri's frankly bad at directions. Otabek helps them find it within a few minutes though, which the blonde's thankful for - because this time, he's now one of the first people at the bus. _Fuck, yes.  
  
Wait - no, he sees Georgi. Abort. Abort.   
  
_ Before Otabek climbs up the steps, Yuri stops him by tugging on his sleeve.   
  
"I know you've done a lot for me today, and I'm sorry to ask this - but if you could? Sit next to me? The person that I had to be next to on the way here _just wouldn't stop taking to me, no matter what I said_ \- and I see him here now  _\- ugh, fuck._ "  
  
Otabek's shoulders shake in small chuckles. "Really? The bus too? You really just can't catch a break today, can you?"  
  
"Welcome to the madness that's my _world._ "  
  
The Kazakh smiles. "Well, I don't really mind what you do. Besides, you seem to _really_ need this, apparently. So, go right ahead."  
  
_Thank you Jesus._  
  
They both get onto the bus, which feels ridiculously comfortable thanks to the hot air blowing throughout.   
  
...  
  
Warm air, the sky near-dusk (save for the familiar twinkle of the stars visible through the windows) and comforting, Otabek doesn't move when Yuri starts to put his head on his shoulder and starts to fall asleep (he's probably had an early day _on top of everything else_ as well, - bottom line, it would just be inconsiderate.)   
  
All together, what a strange day. 


End file.
